Dead roses with greying complexion
three stems bent their thorns to flimsy
to ***** a drop of blood posed on dry-rot table top

Sheets of memories in piles of petals turning to dust scattered like Custer's last stand, across sixteen hundred square feet of unlivable space

Lonely walls gawked by empty rooms behind door's locked and hinges rusted shut, echo no slamming laughter

Condemned hallways coloured by black mold spreading out like veiny fingers of black lung bordered corner to corner with ***** spider lace

Shattered windows lay in shards framed by broken smiles darkened by boarded up dreams splintered in night terrors

A wet paint sign flaking to the ground next to a heavy weaved mat with weak tea letters in red saying welcome

Heart stained felt torn to shunder tattered and frayed into clogged
hollow thick chambers
had homemade love
once upon a time.